


Lifeline

by Siria



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode: s02e10 Ki'ilua, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, thinking back on the flight, Kono wondered if she'd even drawn breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to gyzym and sheafrotherdon for betaing!

Later, thinking back on the flight, Kono wondered if she'd even drawn breath. She remembered only the sick, giddy feeling in her stomach that she'd always associated, before, with diving too deep; the thrumming roar of engines pushed to their limit; the clammy feel of Jenna's hand in hers. The SEALs were masters of down-and-dirty field medicine, had done what they could to ease Steve's pain, keep Jenna stable until they got back across the border, but there were no guarantees and only Wo Fat's haste had kept his shots from being lethal. Kono had been acutely aware of the weight of Chin's gaze on her—her favourite cousin, who'd sometimes known her a little too well for comfort—but had ignored it in order to concentrate on Jenna's faltering pulse, on reciting under her breath every half-remembered mantra her mom had taught her.

Jenna was mercifully unconscious for most of the trip, morphine and shock an overwhelming combination, but she came to for a moment just after they landed, haze clearing from her eyes as she blinked. "Kono?" she said, and the uncertainty in her voice, the grief, was enough to make Kono's heart break all over again.

"Hey, baby," Kono said, leaning in over her, letting her hair fall down to curtain them from the bustle of their team around them—Danny jumping from the chopper and roaring for a medic, Chin giving orders in rusty Korean. "It's okay, I'm here."

"Didn't think you'd come," Jenna slurred, and instinctively Kono gripped her hand tighter—had to, because there was nothing else she could do with the anger she felt other than turn it to strength.

"We came," Kono said, feeling her jawbone click from the tension she felt vibrating through every inch of her. " _I_ came, don't you doubt us, don't you ever doubt us—"

But then the medics were there, moving her gently to one side while they worked on Steve and Jenna with brisk, competent movements. Kono held on to Jenna's hand for as long as she could, but when it came time to transfer Jenna to the ambulance, she had to let go—found herself making a fist around nothing but air, sitting there on the side of a helicopter in a field in the middle of the Korean countryside—found herself sobbing, unexpected and desperate, when Chin sat down beside her and wrapped one arm around her shoulder; when Danny strode over and took her hand in his, rubbed gentle circles over her knuckles with a callused thumb.

Steve and Jenna were transferred to the infirmary in a nearby US military base; to a hospital in Seoul; back to Honolulu on a medical transport. Joe travelled with them, bound and determined to use every bit of influence he had to make sure they got the best of care. Kono went back with the SEALs and the rest of her team, dry-eyed and head aching, picking at the bits of gravel wedged between the treads of her combat boots while Danny lay sprawled out beside her, head propped up on his pack and snoring. Lori and Chin played poker with some of the SEALs to pass the time, an amicable game in which small stacks of green tea _dasik_ were won and lost, but Kono just shook her head when they asked her to join in, feeling that she'd already done a little too much of both over the past three days—far too much, when she still didn't know what stakes she was playing for.

Later, back in Hawaii, there was time for recrimination, for tears; for Jenna to leave and to return, standing hopeful and hesitant on Kono's doorstep with her suitcases beside her. Kono had decided it was worth it, then, opening the door to see Jenna drenched from an afternoon downpour, all she owned in the world stacked beside her. It had to be, because Jenna was the one she would unerringly reach out to when things were at their worst, Jenna the one she wanted to lie beside in the early morning light, tangled in warm sheets; because her breath caught anew each time she woke up to the press of Jenna's lips against her palm—the quiet, right feeling of a smile against her lifeline.


End file.
